Kid's Rose
by Esmara
Summary: A young investigator of the unusual manages to track down a strange figure, and hopes to ask him a few questions. Not all goes as planned... one-shot.


…_I have nothing to say for myself here._

_...*glances left* *glances right* …_

_I WILL NEVER APOLOGIZE_

* * *

Kid's Rose

She _hated _this part of the "supernatural Investigation" gig. How many times had she tried to schedule interviews with otherworldly entities only to be threatened? And how many times, on the rare occasion she _succeeded _in getting some of their time, had they simply tried to eat, kill, or possess her?

No sir, it was not easy being Kid Travis. As she walked to the street he'd agreed to meet her at, she couldn't help but adjust her belt-necklace nervously, her camera suspended by a rope around her neck only worsening the hornets in her stomach by smacking against it with each step. A mist had settled over the streets, which coupled with the evening darkness and dim light to create a very strange atmosphere, almost like a black-and-white crime drama. Of course, the plucky young women in crime dramas normally didn't wear fishnet fingerless gloves or carry roses.

The rose had been an idea that had sprung from research on her latest subject of interest, after finding out they were his signature object of sorts. Of course, it was usually him giving his victims the roses, not the other way around.

Kid wasn't particularly keen on getting a rose.

She approached the street light the deep voice on the other end of the latest victim's line had indicated (what an awful way to track somebody down, but she did what she could), Kid leaned against the cold metal and rehearsed her few short questions in her head, twirling the red flower in her hand and cringing when her index finger tapped on a particularly sharp thorn.

"Ah!" She quickly caught the flower with her free hand when the injured one released it, and looked at her new wound – ah crap, it _was _bleeding. She pressed her finger to the cold metal of her camera trigger, hoping it would be enough to block the scent of her blood – the last thing she wanted was for this guy to get _hungry. _

"We meet at last." She looked up, and the extremely tall figure in the closed black trench coat and matching boots and fedora smiled at her with a mouth full of razor sharp teeth, as ghostly white as his skin. "I was looking forward to meeting you, it's not often an ordinary human actively seeks me out." He walked closer, a gloved hand tilting Kid's chin up. "You had a couple of questions for me, didn't you?"

"Um, yes," she said, feeling his gaze (obscured by the hat, though she knew it didn't matter) on her face. She glanced away, and quickly remembered the rose in her hand. "And before I forget, this is for you." He looked down at it, and she was sure he would have raised a brow if he'd had a brow to raise.

"Thank you," he grinned, and took the flower, looking at it, turning it in his hand. He stopped on a small red dot. "There's blood on this."

"There is?" His attention returned to Kid, who slipped the bleeding finger behind the button. "The florist must have-"

"May I see your hand?" His face split in another toothy grin, and she reluctantly held the hand with the bleeding finger out. He turned it over, leather touch brushing over the tiny injury. "Oh, your finger is a mess," he brought it up to his face, and she felt a small shiver go up her spine as his lips pressed against it and something smooth slid up the fingertip. He released her hand, and she pulled it back, still sensing a slight bit of moisture where the blood had been. "That's better, isn't it?"

"Yes…" she felt her eyebrow arch higher than it already had, and fought to keep blood from rushing to her face. "Thank you." His attention turned back to the rose, and she watched him continue turning it.

"Thank you," he responded, and she felt her jaw slightly drop as his jaw opened and he bit the head of the flower off its stem, "I'd been in the mood for an after-dinner snack." She kept gaping, and felt the questions she had rehearsed fly right out of her mind.

"Did you really just eat that?" He looked back at her, and grinned.

"Tasty." At that, she couldn't keep herself from laughing a little, and his grin widened. "Now, about those questions, my friend?"

"Kid," she quickly corrected, "My name is Kid."

"Very well, Kid," he nodded, "shall we begin, then?" H was mocking her now, using that charm she'd heard so much about and was quickly discovering to be quite potent, distracting her from her objective, keeping her bewildered. She nodded her head, trying to harden her resolve, which was quickly turning to jelly in his shadow.

"Alright…" she directed her attention away from him, to the rose stem on the ground. "Your roses – the ones you use to teleport people – where do they come from?" he chuckled.

"That," he responded, "Kid, is a well-guarded secret, I'm afraid."

"I see." She had somehow gotten her pencil and notepad out and scribbled that down, keeping her eyes on the paper and away from that devil-may-care grin. "And the... ahem, on the subject of roses, where did you…" _Focus, Kid! Don't let him get to you!_

"You have a lovely voice." _God DAMN it. _That silky tone was turning her nerves to mush, and even looking away from him she kept thinking about how tall, how dark and mysterious he was. This must have been his power at work – something in that voice, in his tone and attitude, was hitting all the right spots in her mind with pinpoint precision and redirecting her attention, making her face flush. She tried to focus again, desperately ignoring the gloved hand that had snaked over to play with her ponytail and twirl strands of her coppery red hair. Even now, just standing her, she could feel him trying to lure her in, another easy meal…

RIIIING!

_Oh, thank goodness. _The sudden sound of her cell phone had startled his hand away, and she quickly whipped it out, glancing at the name. It was her mom.

"It looks like we'll have to cut this short," that hypnotic voice sent shivers up her spine as he tilted her chin up again, "some other time, then." He smiled. "You should go see what your mom wants. Goodness knows how easy a young lady could get in trouble at this time of night." She couldn't take it anymore – she turned and ran, cheeks burning, desperate to break from whatever spell he'd been casting the entire time. He chuckled, glancing at the hairclip he'd snagged from her bangs when she wasn't looking. "So cute~"


End file.
